


Back Where We Belong

by mariothellama



Series: Marco and Mario [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Reflecting on a Relationship, love and comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:59:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariothellama/pseuds/mariothellama
Summary: After months out due to injury, Marco is finally back in training. And reunited with Mario. Not unsurprisingly the first day back is hard and Marco needs Mario. And Mario knows exactly what to do.





	

**Author's Note:**

> They say you never forget your first true love - or your first true ship. And as cliched as it may be, Götzeus was mine, the first one that I actually 'saw' in that one glorious season Marco and Mario played together. And it was magical, not just the most beautiful bromance, but on the pitch. We thought that we were seeing the start of something very special and who would have thought that circumstances and injuries to both of them would mean that they have played together relatively rarely since then. So I freely admit that the thoughts I attribute to Marco here are very much mine. Including the optimistic ones for the future!
> 
> Although I have moved on, found an OTP for life and an armada of other ships, these two will always hold a special place in my heart. I know that Marco isn't back in full training yet and, much as I miss him, I actually don't want to see him come back too soon and risk another injury. But I have complete faith that he will be back and as good as ever. And Mario? Well maybe fairytales do come true if you believe hard enough.

Training. Finally back in training. Marco sighed as he put his bag down in the hall, grimacing slightly at the ache in his muscles. The long weeks of rehabilitation had been hard work and he was in pretty good shape, but team training was a whole different level of performance.

This was good pain though. He welcomed this pain. This was the pain that meant his recovery was progressing. The pain that meant he was one step closer to being back on the pitch doing what he loved. Although he knew that it would take some time to completely silence the treacherous demon in his head that whispered poisonous warnings about just how easy it would be for him to get injured again.

And being back in training meant that soon he would be back playing alongside Mario. They had dreamed of conquering the world together all those years ago, they had thought that the future was theirs in the undaunted enthusiasm of youth.

Those dreams were gone, worn down by long years of separation, pain and disappointment. And they were no longer the young men they had been. But they were somehow stronger and more resilient now, tempered by injury and setbacks and the harsh reality of life. And their relationship was stronger than ever. The future would be different from their youthful dreams. But it would still be theirs.

It had been hard for Marco to watch Mario’s growing unhappiness with his career. He had never wanted to influence Mario’s decision about his future. That decision was for Mario alone to take and their relationship would survive no matter what.

Until finally the emotional late-night phone call came, the one where Mario had begged Marco to tell him what he really thought. Marco had agonised over what to say for long moments. He knew that if he told Mario what he honestly thought and it didn't work out their relationship could be damaged. Mario might forgive him, but Marco would struggle to forgive himself. But Mario had at last, in sheer desperation, clearly asked him to say what he thought. And if he loved Mario, he owed him the truth.

So Marco took a deep breath. ‘I think you should accept Dortmund’s offer, Mario. It’s not coming back. It’s not the team you left, different coach, new teammates. Most of the players who knew you when you were young are gone. But it could be coming home. It’ll be hard at first, but you will be valued and appreciated, given the time you need and pushed to fulfil your potential. And I say that as a fellow professional, not as the man who loves you.’

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, until Mario finally breathed, ‘You’re right. That’s what I think deep inside.’ Only then did Marco realise that he had been holding his breath waiting for Mario to answer.

And the miracle was that Marco’s words, words that he had truly believed, seemed to be coming true even faster than even he had thought possible. In one way Marco’s injury had been a blessing. He hadn’t been in training when Mario came back, which had allowed Mario to find his own way in this new Borussia Dortmund. But on the day that they had taken the new season’s team photograph, Marco hadn’t been able to resist ruffling Mario’s hair. He knew he shouldn’t, not in public, not now when the stakes were too high, but sometimes he just wanted to show the world that this wonderful young man was his and only his.

The door closed behind Marco, interrupting his thoughts, and he heard - no he _sensed_ \- that Mario was behind him.

Marco turned, capturing Mario in his arms and pressing roughly him against the wall. He kissed him, aggressively, almost violently, pushing his tongue into Mario’s mouth without waiting for invitation. He thrust his tongue into Mario’s mouth over and over again, capturing it, plundering it, licking and sucking. Marco licked over the roof of Mario’s mouth, where he knew the younger man to be incredibly, almost unbearably, sensitive, and was rewarded with Mario’s answering moan deep in his mouth, a sound which went straight to Marco’s groin.

‘I need you! Now!’ Marco knew that Mario would understand. He had been where Marco was now.

Mario looked at him, his lips red, swollen and wet with spit from the passionate onslaught of Marco’s frantic kisses. ‘OK. But we walk to the bedroom. I'm not risking you trying to undress me on the way, falling over and hurting yourself.’

Marco chuckled, resting his forehead against Mario’s. ‘OK mom. We’ll do it your way. But once in my lair, you are all mine.’

‘I wouldn’t have it any other way!’ came the simple reply.

***

Marco could never get enough of seeing his Sunny like this: radiating love and trust, naked in every sense of the word, laid out and relaxed on the bed, open for him, only for him, for the rest of their lives. He loved preparing Mario, loved how receptive he was to every caress, loved watching Mario’s every reaction, every moan, every sharp intake of breath. And like this he could focus on his Mario, putting his own burning arousal aside for now, as he knew that once inside Mario he would be so out of his mind with his desire for the younger man that he would no longer be able to observe these wonderful small signs of pleasure.

Marco reached for the lube, warming the bottle in his hands for a few moments to make it more comfortable for Mario. Marco rested his weight comfortably on his elbow, never taking his eyes off Mario, while his generously lube-covered fingers circled Mario’s entrance, stroking, caressing, every now and then placing the lightest of pressure on the rim.

Mario whined, already painfully hard, his gorgeous proud cock leaking telltale signs of creamy arousal.

‘Ssshhhhh. It’s OK Mario. Just relax. Enjoy. You’ll get what you need. I promise.’ Marco soothed.

And he would. Marco would always give Mario what he needed. He would never leave his Mario unsatisfied. It’s just that tonight he might take his time getting there.

After what seemed like an eternity to Mario, during which Marco unceasingly massaged and teased his now slick entrance, Marco finally slipped a finger deep inside Mario. Mario mewled with pleasure, spreading his thighs as wide as he could, letting Marco caress him deep inside, slipping his finger in and out of Mario.

‘Are you ready for more darling?’ Marco asked, his voice soft with love and hoarse with lust.

‘Yes! … Please … Please Marco. I need to feel you! I need … inside … more …’ sobbed Mario.

Marco added a second finger, thrusting more slowly in and out of Mario, every so often grazing the spot inside that made him squirm and moan and cry out, gradually spreading his fingers to prepare him to take Marco’s length. And then, equally slowly, a third.

Finally Mario was ready. But, just as Marco was preparing to lube himself up, Mario sat up and firmly but gently pushed Marco down to the mattress. Sometimes Marco made the fatal mistake of forgetting just how strong the smaller man was.

‘Let me Marco. Please. You’re fit again, but team training is a whole other level. And anyway,’ Mario said with a smile, ‘our fans have just about forgiven me. But if I break Marco Reus they really will need to take me out of Dortmund with a police escort this time!’

Marco felt slightly choked with emotion. He knew that if Mario had said that just a few months ago, the joke would have been made to hide the hurt and the fear and the regret. But now things were different.

And so Mario kneeled above Marco, his hand supporting the base of Marco’s cock as he ever so gradually lowered himself down, his strong thighs supporting his weight as he sank down on Marco. Marco felt himself being swallowed almost painfully slowly by Mario’s hot velvet tightness, every slight shift downwards massaging and caressing his cock. This was pure bliss. He longed to be deep inside Mario, but knew that this slow slide into him was an intensely precious moment between them that should not be rushed, so he forced himself not to move.

And finally he was all the way inside Mario, buried balls deep in the man he loved with all his heart, the sharp, hard line of his public bone pressing against the soft, smooth curves of Mario. Marco knew that in this position he would be incredibly deep inside Mario and that, no matter how many times they had done this before, he would be feeling filled and stretched to his limits. Mario’s slight keening confirmed this, the impatient throbbing of Marco’s manhood deep inside him enough to stimulate his already over-sensitive passage.

And then Mario began to move. Marco placed his hands on Mario’s hips, steadying him as Mario moved up and down, impaling himself on Marco’s cock over and over again. The sensation was so intense that Marco longed to shut his eyes, to block out the sensory over stimulation, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from Mario.

Mario was magnificent. His beautiful skin shimmered with a thin layer of sweat that Marco ached to taste with his tongue. His back was slightly arched in pleasure, his mouth open with the soft grunts and moans that Mario couldn’t keep contained inside. And, despite the fact that he was riding Marco into oblivion, Mario still seemed to look somehow angelic, his perfectly rounded cheeks flushed pink and the lighter tips of his soft brown hair glinting in the early evening sunlight.

The tiny part of Marco’s brain that was still functioning rationally wondered if Mario would be able to come untouched like this. Over their long years together, he had become familiar with every inch of Mario’s body, inside and out. Marco used his firm grasp on Mario’s hips to ever so slightly shift the angle of his cock inside him. With success, as Mario’s mouth tightened into a perfect round ‘O’ of ecstasy as the first jolt of hot, sharp pleasure ripped through his groin and up his spine. Marco held him in position, safe and secure, his cock mercilessly hitting Mario’s sweet spot with every downward move. Mario was struggling to keep his rhythm by now, the feeling of being filled and stretched just so deeply by Marco becoming too much, the constant battering of his prostrate almost more than he could cope with.

Mario's movements began to stutter, the pain in his thighs and the pressure of the pleasure building in his body competing to wreck him. Marco held Mario still as he came, thrusting up as hard as possible into Mario, whose still boyish features were suffused with pleasure as he screamed Marco’s name, coming all over their bodies in floods of creamy white. And then Marco finally let go, coming deep inside Mario, who was still shaking and quivering from the strength of his orgasm. Mario was completely exhausted, physically and emotionally drained from the intensity of the experience and the exertion of riding Marco to completion.

Marco tenderly lifted Mario off his cock and the young man almost collapsed on Marco’s chest. Marco enfolded his trembling lover in his arms and held him close, stroking him tenderly, rubbing his nose tenderly against Mario’s cheek, placing soft kisses on his hair, whispering quiet nonsense words of love and devotion, not caring about the mess between their bodies.

All that was important right now was soothing this young man who had given him so much, making him feel safe and warm and protected. This was perfection. And the most wonderful thing? They could be together whenever they wanted. No more goodbyes. No more surviving on late night phone calls. No more relationship conducted via Skype or Facetime. No more counting the days until they could be together again. They were back where they belonged. Together.


End file.
